Page 3 of Mafia Scars

She lowered herself to the ground, sitting in front of me. “I used to be able to bribe you with a story or two when you were little.”

“Those days are long gone.” There was so much on my mind that I wanted to talk about. I’d shunned everyone. Friends and family alike, for what little family I had.

Day by day I’d pieced various things together.

My uncle and cousin had been shot a few years back. My mother had been caught in a crossfire. I found an army’s worth of guns in my father’s office.

Today was when I came to the conclusion of the truth.

Today, as I’d watched my father mourn my mother, and he’d barely looked at me.

“You have to eat something. How else will you be strong enough to go to Julliard?” She tried to sound hopeful. Talking about the one thing I’d spent my whole life working towards should have instilled something positive in me, but it didn’t and wouldn’t.

“I’m not going,” I told her. Sadness filled my voice.

She gasped and reached out to touch my arm. “Amelia, no, you must. Your mother would have wanted you to.”

“I can’t.” Dancing was tied to my emotions. Happiness and sadness.

What they weren’t tied to was loss. Of course, loss was an emotion too. Sadness at its depth.

Having experienced it and the numbness it brought with it, I could say that it was something that sucked the life out of you. It attacked your soul and killed everything inside a person that made them who they were.

It did that and replaced it with something else. For me that was vengeance, and right now, I felt that my father had something to do with my mother’s death. He might not have pulled the trigger or been with her at the time, but I’d seen and heard enough to know he’d had a hand in it.

“Amelia, dancing is you, and you are dancing. I’ve never seen a more beautiful dancer. It comes from deep inside you. You mustn’t abandon it.” She gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you for your kind words.” It was all I could say, although I had so much more I wanted to talk about.

I wondered… Did she know about Dad? Had she seen the guns too, or anything else that hadn’t seemed right in the house?

Millicent didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would be okay with it. She was sweet and loving. Kindness in abundance rippled from her.

No… I didn’t think she knew. Dad had an office in the city that he worked from. He never usually conducted business here. Not that I knew of anyway.

But then… what did I really know?

She leaned forward, kissed my forehead, and stood up to go. “Call me if you need me. I’m just on the end of a line, and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

I nodded even though I had no intention of calling her.

About half an hour after she left, I made my way down to Dad’s office. The door was closed, but I opened it and went in.

He sat behind his desk, hands holding his head. His gaze met mine as I walked in, leaving the door open.

“I want the truth,” I demanded. Everything inside me had reached a boiling point, and I was ready to explode. “Mom died because of you, didn’t she?”

A tear ran down his cheek, answering my question and making my heart sink.

“I didn’t know she would be at the docks. She was never supposed to be anywhere near there, and no one was supposed to die.”

I’d heard there were four other deaths. The shootout had been between the feds and these guys.

Dad was talking like he knew more than everyone else did.

“What does it all mean? What did you do?” I started crying again, unable to conceive what it all meant.

He stood up and came around to me, towering over me with his height. “Amelia, my darling, you must never speak to anyone about this. Never, please.”